


Try to Wash Away the Blood

by desperately_human



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Dark, Harry Truman POV (mostly), Hurt/No Comfort, M/M, Slightly dubcon, after S2 finale, cooper isn't cooper he's the thing from the black lodge, in terms of lies and manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 21:01:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17711516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desperately_human/pseuds/desperately_human
Summary: “I saw you waiting.” Cooper is smiling, “You and your coffee and your head resting on your shotgun. Were you going to put a bullet through your brain if I didn’t come back?”





	Try to Wash Away the Blood

Harry hears glass shatter. Cooper’s not okay. Of course he’s not okay, not after everything, but he’s locked the bathroom door and there’s a sound that must be sobbing and Harry just wants to fix it. He slides down the wall and sits outside the door and feels sick. _How’s Annie_ sticks in his head, and of course, _of course_ he’s glad she’s okay, but after all the times he’s played this moment out in his head, he kind of forgot that Cooper’s heart belonged to someone else. The bathroom door opens, and Cooper is pale and shaken and a little…off. But of course he would be.

“I’m sorry I ran off. I’m sorry about the mirror. I’m not myself.” The doctor opens his mouth and Cooper cuts him off with, “I can’t talk about it now.” His jaw is tight, his eyes are blank. He says, “Leave. I need to be alone now” but as Harry is leaving Cooper grabs his arm and breathes into his ear, “come back later” and Harry allows himself a moment to be happy. As they’re leaving, he asks, much calmer than before, “ _Where_ is Annie?”

“Room 212, just down the hall,” Harry answers, “but you can’t see her yet. Still resting.”

                                                                                                               ~~~~~~~~

When they’re gone, the monster leans over the sink again and spits, trying to rid his mouth of the forced politeness. He opens the door and finds room 212 on silent feet. She’s sleeping, she’s gentle, she knows too much and has seen too much. The man whose form he has taken cared for her. That makes it so much more fun.

After it’s over, back in his own room, he washes the blood from his hands. He looks into the mirror, sees his distorted reflection and realizes he is covered in it. He steps into the shower fully clothed, mouth open under the spray to taste the water laced with blood.

                                                                                                                ~~~~~~~~

Harry knocks softly on the door, and, finding it partially open, steps into the room. There is the sound of water running, but bathroom door is open, too. Cooper stands by the sink, fully dressed and soaking wet and shivering. Harry moves softly, trying not to startle him, and turns off the shower. There are traces of red in the bath, unsettling, but he can’t focus because Cooper is still shaking and his wet, white shirt is clinging to his skin.

“I’m cold, Harry,” his voice is small.

“Well, lets get you out of those wet clothes, then,” Cooper raises an eyebrow, smiles with half of his mouth, and Harry feels his face go red. He tries to amend, “I mean--,” but Cooper is already shrugging out of his shirt and his wet hair is an undignified mess, and Harry’s mouth goes dry.

In the silence, Cooper steps closer. Half dressed, eyes bright, with that odd smile. Harry thinks of the times he has seen Cooper happy, over a slice of cherry pie or a solid clue. This isn’t the same look, not happy, exactly. It’s something more intense, more demanding. Harry steps back and Cooper follows him, shivering and shallow breaths and _right there._ Harry is scared, and he doesn’t know if it’s fear that he’s misunderstanding, uncertainty about what happens next, or something worse. He tries to push that thought aside. Cooper seems almost like himself, yet absolutely different from the man who had said goodbye to him two days earlier. Harry tries to think about this, about what that place has done to Cooper, can’t focus on the thoughts. The present is very distracting.

“I saw you waiting.” Cooper is smiling, “You and your coffee and your head resting on your shotgun. Were you going to put a bullet through your brain if I didn’t come back?”

“What--?”

“Quiet.” Cooper puts a finger against his lips, a hand on his chest. Certain, demanding, pushing him backwards towards the bed. His voice is dangerously low, and he’s still smiling, but something in the smile has shifted.

“Were you hoping Annie wouldn’t come back?” It’s like Cooper is reading out of him the worst parts of himself, and he wants to say _It isn’t like that._ Yes, he was waiting, but of course he wanted Annie to come back. But he also wanted to step back in time, before she arrived-- because even though its not her fault, if she hadn’t been there it wouldn’t have happened—and tell Cooper all the things he didn’t let himself face. That it was over with Josie and he was already deep in it with Cooper. That he’d never been in love before. That if only that damn portal would open up again, he would jump right it. That they only met because Laura Palmer was murdered and he knows it’s not okay to be grateful for that, but he is.

“Because you wanted me all to yourself,” Cooper has his shirt collar in one hand and is twisting it tight against his neck. Harry wants him to shut up, to talk about cherry pie and Douglas firs and damn good coffee instead of these horrible words, but he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t want this to end. Then Cooper is kissing him, all tongue and teeth and he should be cold from the shower but his skin feels fever-hot. He’s losing the rest of his wet clothes and pulling at Harry’s shirt and biting his lips and totally in control, and Harry lets him. Lets the adrenaline and the desire take control and pushes away the fear, because this is how it feels when you get what you want.  

                                                                                                         ~~~~~~~~

They find Annie’s body the next morning, when some Audrey comes to bring her breakfast. She’s so small, twisted up in the bloodied sheets. Everybody loved her. Harry thinks, sickeningly, of the blood in Cooper’s bathroom, of “did you hope she wouldn’t come back,” and he stumbles against the wall. No, not right, not true. Cooper who didn’t seem like himself, blood on his hands, his hands on Harry. He’s shaking as he runs down the hall, back to the room where he left Cooper, who isn’t there anymore, or never was. Everything shifts.

                                                                                                         ~~~~~~~~

It’s been almost a year now, and Harry knows that the thing that came back isn’t Cooper. After the second murder, and the third, and everything else, there’s no choice but to acknowledge that. But the monster has Cooper’s face, and his sweet smile, and a voice that said Harry’s name so softly. Harry had him cornered in the trailer park, and even seeing the monster’s collared shirt still stained with blood, he couldn’t pull the trigger. He’s been drinking more since then, he doesn’t deserve to be sheriff. Never get involved.

He hasn’t seen the thing that isn’t Cooper in months. Maybe gone to Canada. Maybe, _maybe_ dead. But he still has the dreams, dreams where Harry has a gun pressed to the Cooper-monster’s head, but his eyes really _are_ Cooper’s and he looks down at the blood on his hands and can’t believe what he’s done. He wonders where the real Cooper is, _if_ he is. In dark moments he would like to forget, he wonders if the real Cooper would ever kiss him like the monster did.

He envies Margaret, with her log for company. He envies Sarah Palmer, in a way, because while she may not have all the answers, she gets to mourn. He’s always fighting, will always be fighting, doesn’t think he’ll ever stop looking over his shoulder. He wants to mourn. He wants to sort out the memories he has from the ones he shouldn’t have, wants to lay flowers in the woods. He just wants to say goodbye.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I always love comments and feedback.  
> I love the idea of Harry thinking Cooper is back and then having to reconcile with the idea that it's not him. Other people have done interesting fics about this idea (there is so much good writing in this fandom!) but I had this specific awful idea in my head that I needed to write.  
> 


End file.
